


Blood & Hellfire

by evecoffin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Ghost Rider (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Witchblade - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2020-06-25 12:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evecoffin/pseuds/evecoffin
Summary: The Blood Sword is an ancient artifact that grants it's host with immense powers, but at the cost of a hunger of destruction and carnage. Once held in a museum, it's been stolen and taken to Los Angeles.Evelyn Madison is the host of the Witchblade, another ancient artifact that grants it's host immense powers. She has the responsibility of tracking the Blood Sword before it can find a host. It was supposed to be easy, but that was wishful thinking.Time is running out, and Los Angeles is in danger of a terrible disaster. If that wasn't enough, now Eve has come face to face with the local legend Ghost Rider. For a city named 'City of Angels', it's starting to feel more like a City of Demons.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dumb fic and will be multi chapter. I don't know how often I'll update but I will......try my best. I love Witchblade, but I have bended the lore just a /tad/ bit. I also love Ghost Rider and the MCU in general. So why not smash them together? 
> 
> If you read this just know that I love you very much.

There was nothing quite as jarring and as painful as slamming into a terribly placed vehicle after plummeting from a window six stories above. 

Eve would have rather she hit the concrete than the hunk of metal that now had a woman shaped dent on the hood. Not to mention, there was probably some of her blood on the shattered windshield. 

The fact that she wasn't dead from the impact alone was astonishing. Though, she has fallen from higher places with a lot more force. 

Blinking her eyes, she pushed herself up and shook the shards of glass from her hair, the ringing in her ears painful, a headache forming from the impact. 

The blaring car alarm wasn't helping either. It would only be a matter of time until the owner or even the entire neighborhood came running out. A few lights had already been flipped on in some of the apartments, and she could hear what sounded like dogs barking. 

What she could hear with the constant ringing in her ears. Rolling, stumbling off the hood, Eve found her footing on the pavement. She rolled her shoulders, feeling several tendons and joints pop and grind. Her neck stretched where it was feeling tense and stuck from the fall. 

She'd be okay in ten minutes. A quick recovery came as a consequence of having an ancient artifact latched onto her wrist. 

And so was being thrown out of apartments by demons disguised as everyday people. 

Something cracked in her neck as the demon made its appearance before her, still in it’s human guise only with blackened eyes. Similarly colored ichor dripped from it’s tear ducts, the same liquid staining the once porcelain white teeth. The demon chose the body of an older man, with a thinning hairline and pudge forming over the hem of its jeans. 

Not one you’d really expect to be a demon, but as she’s learned over the years; you can never judge a book by it’s cover. 

Especially if there was the possibility of a book being a demon and killing you. 

“You should’ve stayed in New York, Witchblade,” it hissed at her with a contorted voice like a filter had been put over it. It made it hard to understand with the loud car alarm that continued to go off. 

Shaking her head, Eve planted her feet firmly on the ground, a fist clenching as she felt as the Witchblade began to heal her. Her head wound had already stopped bleeding. “Thought I might see what’s so special about the West Coast,” she yelled over the alarm, the jewel embedded in the metal bracelet around her wrist emitted a low glow, power crackling around her and popping next to her ear. 

The demon began to move, slowly circling her as it hissed, long black nails beginning to grow from its fingertips. 

"Listen, you just need to tell me where Elliot is and this will all be over," Eve yelled, rolling her shoulders back. Of course the demon wouldn't tell her, but she was always hoping for the day she'd be proven wrong. 

The demon laughed scraping it's long claws across the pavement which caused sparks to fly up. The demon was still standing at full height. 

Behind her, she heard a door open and a man yell about his now destroyed car. 

Eve whipped her head around to tell the man to get back inside, and that was her second mistake of the night. The first was thinking this demon would be a pushover. 

The demon collided into her with the force of a freight chain, launching her backwards. She landed on her back, rolled backwards and managed to get back up on her feet. The demon kept coming though, so she produced a bo staff from the Witchblade. 

The staff vibrated in her hands when she blocked the demons strike, the metal singing as they made an impact. It's face was inches from hers, and she could feel the black bile hit her face in tiny droplets. Using most of her strength, she kicked the demon away, swinging the staff and cracking it against its skull. 

Eve has fought many demons, but she was still injured from the fall and her body was begging with her to rest. Every movement felt strained and her head felt like it was going to split wide open. 

She swung the staff towards the demon’s legs to try and knock it off balance, but it jumped back, swinging its claws in a downward arc. Eve never even felt the claws slice into her, but she felt when blood began to pool out of the wound. 

Clenching her jaw, she moved back and tried to summon the full Witchblade armor, but to no avail. She was already pushing it with the bo staff. 

The demon swung at her again, but she dodged at the last minute, spinning around and before landing a swift kick to the back of it’s head. 

Eve thought she heard the distant sound of a car speeding in their direction. A neighbor must've called the cops, but there were no sirens in the distance. Still, she knew that she had to finish this up quickly. Enough time had already been wasted. 

Spinning the staff, she stepped forward and knocked the demon around for a few seconds before it grabbed the staff and halted her in place. 

It's face had grown more demonic, no trace of it's human disguise left. The smell of rot and sulfur filled her nose and caused her eyes to water. 

Eve tried to yank the staff back, but the demon was stronger and yanked harder. She felt herself lifted off the ground, the air rush past her as she was thrown against yet another car. Hopefully the owners had really good insurance. 

She landed on all fours, the air knocked out of her lungs and the taste of copper on her tongue. Broken glass cut into her palms and knees as she struggled to her feet. 

"Like I said, Witchblade," the demon sauntered towards her, raising its claws like it’s ready to cut her into ribbons. "You should have stayed in N-" 

It's voice cut off, replaced by a pain filled shriek. From behind him, a chain had appeared. One that was engulfed in flame, wrapping around the demon’s body and spreading its fire to it’s victim. The demon had no time to struggle,. It could only scream as the chain tightened and turned the monster into nothing but ash. 

Eve put her hand up to block the bright light, staring at the pile of ash as she pushed herself to her feet. She had to blink a few times for her to actually believe what had happened, and still she hardly believed it. 

She looked towards from where the chain had come from and felt her mouth go dry. 

In front of her stood a figure, the chain that had vaporized her attacker was now wrapped around its torso like a sash. From the neck down, it looked like a normal person. A leather jacket with white detailing, jeans and a pair of sneakers. What was above that was a whole different story. 

There was a flaming skull where a human head was supposed to be.

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she squinted at what she was looking at, confused and unsure if this was friend or foe. Behind the figure, an old muscle car revved its engine. The car was black, its tires engulfed in flames that left two trails of fire behind it, searing its path into the road. 

Eve straightened up, feeling the heat of the flames from where she was standing. 

Her ribs were aching, feeling she might’ve busted a few of them. The rest of her body felt the same way. She clutched her side as she watched the figure watch her. The flames burned bright and swayed as it they moved. Eve had seen a lot of things over the years–the world was a strange and terrifying place–she’s just never seen anything like this. 

They stared at each other for a long time, neither moving, neither sure of what to make of the other.   
.  
She only looked away when she heard the sirens closing in. The sound of a car door slamming brought her attention back, but it was too late. Flaming Skull Head was already in its car, and driving past her in a blur. 

It was about time she left as well. 

Taking a deep breath, she hobbled forward and shot out a wire from the Witchblade. It latched onto the apartment building and pulled her upwards. 

She scrambled onto the rooftop as soon as the cops pulled up to the scene. She listened as the car doors opened and slammed shut, several confused officers shouting as they tried to piece together the scene. 

They wouldn’t be able to figure it out, and she was sure no one would believe the truth anyways. Even if they lived in a post-Avengers world. 

Eve sat down on the rooftop, sighing and waiting for everything to stop hurting so much. The Witchblade would heal her, but it would take time. Ten hours of sleep, at least. The amount of injuries she had was pushing the artifact’s limits but she pushed the limits of it almost every day. 

She scrubbed at her face.This night hadn’t gone according to plan at all. 

The one lead to Elliot that she found was now a pile of ash, and so were the chances of finding him easily. Eve didn’t know Los Angeles at all, and that already gave Elliot a terrific advantage over her. The longer it took to find him, the more likely it was that he was going to cause a lot of people to get hurt. 

She couldn’t stay here, that was obvious. Luckily, her AirBNB wasn’t that far away and she was still able to walk; albeit, rather slowly. The rooftops would be quicker to travel so she’d just have to sacrifice some of the Witchblade’s healing properties for the journey. 

Once she got her shower, the Witchblade could do whatever it wanted while she slept. 

Clenching her jaw shut, she forced herself to stand, making sure that she stayed low enough so no one saw her creeping on the rooftops. Eve only had three days left in Los Angeles, so she needed to move fast. 

Even if tonight was a bust, something in her gut was telling her she was getting closer.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot happens, but that's okay. We get some set up at least.

“Are you sure that’s what you saw?” asked the man on the phone, an incredulous tone in his voice. Eve couldn’t help but roll her eyes, holding the phone away from her ear as she took her order from the kind barista. She muttered a thanks, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she walked out of the Starbucks. 

“Pretty fuckin’ sure. I mean, I don’t think I would’ve hallucinated that.” Eve tore the straw open, taking the paper it was wrapped in and stuffed it in her back pocket. The coffee was delightful, but her stomach rumbled for something with actual substance. Unfortunately, her stomach was going to have to wait. 

Eve didn’t have to be face to face with Matthias to know he was pacing, running his hand through his hair and then pinching the bridge of his nose. It was the motions he always did when he was frustrated with Eve. 

Which was often. 

Eve heard Matthias blow out a sigh, and rummage through something on his desk. He was in his classroom, a break between classes – the only time Eve could call him. 

While it was a little after three o’clock in the afternoon in Los Angeles, it was only noon in New York. Eve would have called him earlier, but she had only woken up two hours ago. 

Once she had gotten back to the AirBNB, she hadn’t been able to take a shower since she passed out the minute she got to the bed. Eve was grateful that the home she was staying in had a washer and dryer, so she could at least attempt to get the bloodstains out of the sheets. That would be a tough one to explain. 

“Do you think it was another demon?” Matthias asked, his voice trying to remain neutral. 

Eve shrugged. She turned a corner, narrowly avoiding running into a group of teenagers. “I don’t think so.” She took another sip, looking both ways before crossing the street. “I mean, it didn’t feel like it.” 

The Witchblade usually told her when demons were around. It felt like electricity racing up and down her spine. She didn’t get that when she looked at Flaming Skull Head. 

It was weird. The feeling she got here was something like...familiarity. Like somehow she knew what it was, or it knew what she was. 

This was not something she was going to explain to Matthias, He would just nag about how she needed to be more careful and to not rely so much on the Witchblade, which was easy for him to say since he was practically a wizard. 

Eve was nothing without the Witchblade. Just another college dropout with no future. 

Okay, she was still a college dropout, but at least she had some sort of purpose. Some sort of meaning in her otherwise meaningless life, but it was too early for an existential crisis, so she moved all those thoughts aside. 

“He didn’t attack me.” 

“Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have.” Which was true, but Matthias wasn’t a glass half-full person. He always sees the worst in a situation, always expecting something to go wrong. “He didn't because the cops showed up. 

“You think a murderous, flaming skull head guy is going to care about the cops?" Eve took another sip of her coffee. "He could've easily turned them all into dust." 

Matthias was quiet for a moment. "I think we should come and help you with this." 

"What?" Eve stopped her pace, stepping to the side so she wasn't in anyone's way. "Absolutely not. You have classes to teach and Jacqui has a bar to run." 

It wasn’t that Eve didn't appreciate the concern–she did–but she didn't want them to drop everything just to come save her. She wasn't perfect, and maybe not the best Witchblade host, but she had this. 

"I'm fine Matthias, really." Her back hit the building she was standing next to, the sun baking her skin. "Besides it's like a six hour flight and maybe by the time you'd get here it'd all be taken care of " 

He sighed again, this time louder and more aggravated. "I'll give you two more days, but you know how crucial it is to find the artifact." 

Eve flinched at that. Of course she knew, and she knew that if she fucked up it could mean a lot of people would get hurt. 

Her mistakes were never little ones. They always had the possibility of creating some kind of disaster. She missed back when the only thing she had to worry about was what lie she'd tell about not doing her homework. 

Maybe she should have just done her homework. 

Matthias had moved onto another lecture, but she wasn't listening. Her attention had found something else. 

On the building in front of her, there was a large mural in front of her. A large, painted version of Flaming Skull Head staring right at her. 

"Hold that thought, Professor." Eve cut Matthias off as she crossed the street, not bothering to look both ways. The mural took up a large section of the building; the skull head bigger than her. 

She held her phone up, snapped a photo and sent it to the man on the other line. "I think I found Mr. Flaming Skull Head." 

"Ghost Rider." 

The voice came from behind Eve, and she spun around, trying to hide the fact that she jumped at it. She came face-to-face with a teenager, holding a bag of spray cans and looking at her like she was dumb. 

"Ghost Rider?" she asked, ignoring Matthias' muffled voice over the phone. "I guess Flaming Skull Head is a mouthful." 

The teenager at least laughed a bit, moving past her to what she assumed his work or art. 

"Who is he?" She took a step back so the kid could work, keeping her phone to her shoulder while Matthias repeatedly called her name. 

The teenager shrugged, shaking the can the sound of the rattling bouncing off the wall. "No one knows for sure. He just appeared one night and started killing off criminals around the city." Eve watched as the kid touched up a spot that the sun had dulled, creating crossbones around Ghost Rider's head. 

"Los Angeles's own Punisher?" Eve asked, finishing off her coffee with a loud sip. 

The young artist scoffed and shook his head. "The Punisher isn't as cool." 

"Fair enough. Thanks, and nice work. Keep it up." She waved goodbye to the kid, who wasn't paying attention to her anymore and put the phone back to her ear. "Might have found out flame guy. He seems like a local legend." And still felt familiar to her. 

"Look into it, but remember what you're really after." In the background, Eve could hear the shuffling of students filing into the lecture hall. "I have to go, but call me as soon as you find something." He hung up quickly. 

"'Kay, thanks. Bye." Eve said into the dead line, wrinkling her nose. That was just like Matthias, but he did have a class of a hundred people to teach. 

At least she had somewhere to look now, even if it was in the opposite direction of Elliot and The Blood Sword. 

If anything, maybe Elliot would come to her when he found out she was here. He would try and kill her, but at least he'd be out of hiding. 

Or his goons would come and get her. 

Too much to think about with not enough food in her stomach. Tossing her empty coffee in a trashcan, she searched for the nearest food place. Her stomach growled at her, demanding something to eat. She'd think clearer with food and wouldn't feel so tired either. 

Hopefully it would also wake up the Witchblade too. Use it too much and it just became a clunky piece of jewelry. 

Luckily, the closest place was only two blocks away. Hopefully it would be accommodating with some wifi. 

On her way to the small diner, she couldn't help but feel like someone was watching her. She didn't see anyone when she looked over her shoulder, but that didn't mean she was being paranoid for no reason. 

By the time she got to the diner, the cut on her lip reopened and the familiar taste of copper was back on her tongue. 

The diner was, blessedly, empty. Many seats to choose from, so Eve chose one in the back and grabbed a menu from the display. It was the kind of Mexican restaurant that’s entire menu was in Spanish. Eve flunked Spanish in high school, but fortunately a previous host of the Witchblade spoke it fluently. A benefit of being a later host of the Witchblade. An exact number of hosts was unknown to her, the most she ever counted was twenty. The artifact held onto memories and abilities of past users, some more prominent than the others. 

The older ones Eve could barely get to, but the more recent ones felt like her own memories. Like Nanabah, a Mexican-Native American gunslinger from the Old West. Unfortunately Eve’s poor vision prevented her from being the impressive gunslinger that Nanabah was, but she did pick up language from her. That was helpful. 

The waitress came over with chips and salsa, taking Eve’s drink order of water no lemon. Her mouth felt incredibly dry from the coffee and just general dehydration. 

Once the waitress left, Eve opened the backpack she was carrying and pulled out her needed-to-be-thrown-out notebook. It’s where she kept all the information she had gathered before coming here and the two days she had been in the city. Her brain was scattered most days, ADHD and other disorders not making it easy to keep track of things day by day. She could barely keep track of which day of the week it was. Days just passed by, melting together until she was unsure of a week had gone by or a month. 

Right now she just had to focus on the now. What she knew right now. 

Elliot Bauer. Wealthy businessman with his fingers in several figurative pies. No one knew what he really did, but that was on purpose. He ran Bauer Industries from the shadows and rarely was any outsider let inside. The reason why; Elliot Bauer didn’t exist. The name was an alias for the demon who claimed that name. 

Neither Jacqui or Matthias could figure out his true name, which left them at another disadvantage. Names held power for demons. Find out their true name and you could basically make them your bitch. 

They weren’t even sure what kind of demon Elliot was, or even where he stood in the hierarchy of Hell. 

What they did know was that two weeks ago, Elliot Bauer was responsible for a robbery at the Brooklyn Museum. He hadn’t been there but the men who stole the artifact had been paid by him. 

The robbery was a mystery to the public, since only one thing had been stolen. A katana found on a dig in Japan, thought to belong to an ancient samurai back in the day. They were at least right about that, but the sword wasn’t any normal katana. Not by a long shot. 

The katana in question was, and still is, known as the Blood Sword.   
Until it was excavated by archeologists, it had remained lost for almost two centuries. For good reason. 

When it was created, a shaman summoned a demon and trapped its soul within the blade, making it one of the Thirteen Artifacts of the world. The Witchblade being among the rest. Thanks to the demon’s soul in the blade, it gives its user immense power-at the cost of an insatiable hunger for carnage and bloodshed. 

Which is why the fact that a most likely high ranking demon managed to get his hands on it was pretty concerning.

A demon couldn’t wield it or use any of its power at all. Which was good, but the problem lay in that they had no idea what he was going to use it for. Was he trying to break the seal and free whatever demon was inside, or was it something else? 

Eve’s theory was that he wanted to find someone to use it, someone he could control and manipulate. Having the Blood Sword in his pocket would make him far more deadly than he already was. There was also terrible feeling that he was planning something big. The longer she took to find him, the more likely it was that shit was going to hit the fan. 

The sound of her pen clicking filled the vacant diner, absentmindedly eating the chips the waitress had brought her. Her stomach growled in thanks, or either it was demanding more food. She stared at her scribbles, chewing her cheek as she contemplated her options. Elliot wasn’t stupid so he took precautions. They couldn’t track him, but they could track the Blood Sword. Even in its dormant state, it was giving off enough power that they could guesstimate where it being held. Which was the reason Eve had flown across the country to Los Angeles. 

It was still a massive area to search, and the only demon she had came across was last night. 

Eve snapped out of the thoughts when the waitress came back with her water, trying to cover up the seemingly insane scribblings. It didn’t help that her handwriting looked like a serial killer’s. 

Quickly Eve gave her order, spouting off whatever she saw on the menu first. The only thing she really cared about is whether or not it was edible. More than likely this would be. The waitress smiled and walked off, leaving Eve to her thoughts once again. 

It felt like ten minutes of staring at her notebook or scrolling through different forums on the Ghost Rider when the bell above the door chimed. Eve didn’t bother to look up, only listening to the footsteps and the greeting from who she assumed was the owner. 

“Here to pick up dinner, Roberto?” The woman asked as she moved some plastic bags on the counter. 

The man, Roberto, laughed under his breath. “Yes ma’am.” Roberto’s voice was deep, but not like how someone who smokes is deep. This was a natural baritone, with a hint of an accent. Curiosity got the best of her. Her eyes casually glanced over to wear the man was standing. He was facing away from her, leaning against the counter waiting for the owner to come back. 

His black hair was cut short, clean shaven maybe. Everytime he turned his head she thought that maybe she caught the slightest glimpse of some facial hair. What Eve could pick out was freckles scattered across his skin, along with a grease stain on his jaw. Mechanic.

If the jumpsuit he was wearing wasn’t a dead giveaway, that probably would’ve been it. 

He kept looking around the diner, briefly glancing at her but Eve turned away before their eyes could lock in that awkward look. She could feel his eyes linger on her for longer than he should have but she didn’t dare look back to confirm it. It helped when the waitress came back with her food so she didn’t have to forcibly look out the window to nothing. 

When the owner came back, he stopped looking and gave all of his attention to her. Maybe he saw the bandages on her arm or the bruises appearing from underneath the collar of her shirt. The waitress had given her a few looks, but hadn’t said anything. Hopefully someone would ask so she could throw her head back, laugh and say “You should see the other guy!” 

Hadn’t happened yet. 

Keeping her face down she started to devour her food, a smile forming on her lips as it hit her taste buds. She doesn’t think she’s ever had a burrito this good. Eve kept eating, her notes and forums fading from her mind. The only thing that concerned her was the food in front of her getting into her stomach. 

Until the man spoke again. 

“They haven’t found Mikey yet?” 

Eve didn’t stop eating, just slowed down her pace and tried to subtly look up. Her hand wrapped around her glass and she sucked down her water. 

“Nothing, they haven’t found the other boys either.” The owner sighed, suddenly looking exhausted and weighed down with grief. That was when Eve noticed the missing posters behind her. Photos of teenage boys lined up, big red letters spelling out ‘MISSING’ across the top. Their names, descriptions, last known whereabouts and when they disappeared scribbled beneath. Eve counted a total of four posters. 

Four teenagers missing. 

Eve strained her eyes to read the first date and felt her heart drop. A week and two days ago. 

That made the first disappearance just around the same time Elliot Bauer would have came to Los Angeles, just days after he stole the Blood Sword from the Brooklyn Museum. 

Matthias would have said it was a coincidence. People go missing, teenagers runaway, it didn’t mean anything. There were probably dozens of other missing posters around the neighborhood, and several others unreported. 

That’s what Matthias would say but her gut was telling her differently. Jacqui would say go with your gut. Eve always liked listening to Jacqui a bit more. 

Snapping her eyes back down to her food, she pretended not to listen, grabbing her phone like she got some text message when it had remained silent the entire time. 

Eve heard a sigh as a plastic bag was put on the counter. “No leads. He just...vanished. No witnesses, the only video is too blurry to make out anything.” There was a lot of distraught in the woman’s voice, cracking as if she might burst into tears if she spoke about it more. 

There was a moment of silence that seemed to increase the tension in the diner. Eve thought that Roberto would have lent some comfort to the woman, some words of ease that were probably meaningless. Mikey must’ve been her son, and Eve couldn’t imagine what that felt like that. 

Slowly her eyes shifted up and realized the man wasn’t speaking because of the anger he was feeling. It was obvious in his body language. Shoulders tensing under the jumpsuit, jaw clenching and the white knuckles as he held the bags. It was rolling off him. 

That’s when the artifact started to burn against her skin, a bolt of electricity shooting through her spine. Tell tale signs of a demon except, they were the only ones inside the diner. No one had walked in and she heard no other doors open. The woman wasn’t a demon, neither was the waitress. 

Which left Roberto. 

Eve had stopped looking at him when the Witchblade started to react. Quickly she moved it under the table to hide the light coming from it, frowning. It had been weak all this morning, still recovering from the fight last night. Maybe the food had simply caused it to wake up. When she looked back she found the eyes of the man and felt her stomach flip. 

For the quickest moment, his brown eyes changed to an amber yellow. The color flickered like an open flame.

It happened so quick that Eve might've thought she was hallucinating if not for the Witchblade. 

They both blinked at each other, the moment over. Each hair on the back of her neck was standing up and she felt herself sit ramrod straight. 

He however was turned back around, slid the owner a twenty and walked out. Over the counter, the woman gave her a sympathetic smile. "Don't mind him, he's just a bit abrasive." 

Forcing a smile, Eve rubbed at the skin below the bracelet wondering what the hell that was all about. The moment he walked in she would've known he was a demon. Before he even stepped through the door she would've felt it. 

His eyes weren't blackened much like all demons were. No thick, tar-like liquid dripping from his pores either. 

He wasn't a demon, but he was something. Eve couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity either. It was all confusing, her head was starting to form a headache from just that moment. 

Couldn't let it show, so she simply shrugged and went back to her food when the woman walked into the back. 

Shoving the rest of her food into her mouth, Eve slapped down thirty dollars on the table and grabbed her things to leave. Before walking out, she snapped photos of each missing poster and typed the first address into her phone. 

If Elliot was looking for the perfect host, he'd need multiple options. Who better to groom into a controllable killing machine than someone who has barely gone through puberty? 

The last boy was taken only two days ago, which meant Elliot was still looking. It also meant there were four teenage boys stuck someplace with a demon. Defenseless. 

If they were even alive. 

She swallowed that thought down, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she walked into the daylight. According to her phone, the first abduction site was three blocks away. 

From the corner of her eye she saw Roberto on the opposite side of the street. She couldn't stop and look, choosing to instead keep walking forward. Whatever he was he would have to be an afterthought. Right now she finally, hopefully, had the lead she was looking for. 

It wasn't just her time running out anymore. Those four boys were now her responsibility, their lives in her hands. 

Hell, the more she thought about it, it was more than likely that there were more that hadn't been reported. 

Eve wasn't sure how many people Elliot would go through before he found his perfect candidate, or what he would do when he found them. Hopefully she could prevent finding out all of those answers.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot of action in this one so *dabs*   
> also a lot of beating up nazis which is always great. thank you for reading this far yall are the bomb.
> 
> also pls leave comments i demand validation.

The Witchblade is a supremely powerful artifact; it was only limited by the person who bears was wielding it. It’s magical properties came in the form of the armor it created and several other abilities. 

Including the ability to see past events.

Eve had spent the rest of the day tracking down the places where each of the boys had been taken. None of the locations seemed to have anything in common except for the fact that teenage boys were known to hang around them. The first boy was snatched in front of the high school after leaving his tutoring session. The second from a corner store after buying enough snacks to feed an entire house, according to the cashier. 

The third vanished from a playground and the fourth from a junkyard after selling some spare parts. 

All of them were taken at night and no one had paid enough attention to realize what was happening before it was too late. To the normal person each spot was the beginning and the dead end to the missing persons cases, but not to Eve. 

Not to the Witchblade. 

Places held memories for a short period of time. Memories that the Witchblade could see and relive like it was happening in the present day. While no cameras had caught the crimes and no person had witnessed the crimes, Eve could. The older the memory, however, the blurrier it was.

She could barely make out anything at the first spot she visited. There was a white van, the boy walking down the stairs and then being shoved into the back of the van. This memory didn’t contain their faces or any other distinguishable details. The second memory was only mildly clearer, and the third gave her much more than the last two. 

Two men were in the van though their faces remained unclear, but she could tell they had a ton of tattoos on each of their arms. The van had a California license plate with a number she was able to write down in her notebook. It was the stereotypical creepy white van that Eve feared as a child after her brothers told her how someone would snatch her up if she wasn’t careful. 

The fourth one, however, she was able to see the faces of the men who snatched the barely fourteen year old off of the street. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach the moment their images became clear in the memory. 

It didn’t take much to recognize a skinhead. Bald head, ugly ass Nazi tattoos and a face that begged to have its shit knocked in. 

Eve burned their images into her mind as the memory faded, the darkness overcoming her as she stood in the same spot the boy had stood. He had walked just far enough that no one in the junkyard would have seen. Which is exactly what the skinheads wanted. He walked down the street, happily counting the money he just earned.

Then those assholes drove up behind him without their lights on, pulled onto the sidewalk to block his path and hit him hard enough to knock him out cold. They tossed his limp body into the back, and pocketed the money he had dropped. 

Teeth grinding, Eve looked around. The sun had set an hour ago and she was pretty sure the yard was beginning to close. Asking questions here was pointless; she knew who she needed to find. It was all a matter of finding out where they were.

There were probably a dozen white vans in the city, and they didn’t seem to be a pattern i [to] their abduction spots. They were all spread out, miles apart from each other. The only thing they had in common was that teenage boys were known to hang out in those locations.

Though, the kid must have been followed here. Or at least, they were waiting for anyone to show up. 

She bit her lip, tapping her boot on the concrete below her. If she found the skinheads, she could find out where they took the boys/kids and who had them now. 

And if they were still alive. 

While she ran through the options of where Neo-Nazi’s would hang out on a Friday night, the sound of a gate opening drew her attention behind her. Quickly, she ducked into a shadow covered section of the alley, crouching low as she watched whoever it was walking out of the yard. 

There were barely any street lights, so all she could see was a vague figure making their way to a car parked outside. The sound of someone flipping their key ring over and over again filled her ears as she watched the metal glint off the solitary street light.

Eve watched them get into the car and bring the engine to life. Headlights flooded the street so she quickly ducked into an alleyway. The car sped past her in a blur, but she could make out the all black body and silver detailing on it. 

With the windows tinted, she couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat, but she had a feeling they had met once before. The memory of her encounter with Ghost Rider came to the forefront of her mind. 

“We just keep running into each other, huh?” She quietly muttered to herself, standing up and stepping back out into the street. She watched as the red lights faded in the distance, her curiosity begging her to follow it somehow. To find out who and what the Ghost Rider was. If she had the time, she would have given chase, used the Witchblade to get to the rooftops and pursued from above.

But the Ghost Rider wasn’t her priority right now. Right now, she needed to figure out where those men would be. Or, at least, where they might have some friends who would know. People like them tended to travel in packs, to feel validated for their shitty mindsets. They’d have a place to go to express their racism, homophobia, xenophobia and every other phobia out there. 

She stopped, digging out her phone and thinking that it couldn’t possibly be that easy. 

After a few searches that might have gotten her information flagged, she managed to track down a few spots that might lead her to them. 

Sparking the Witchblade to life, she jumped up to the rooftop, using the wire from her wrist to pull herself the rest of the way. The first location was a bar two miles away. She’d get there quicker keeping to the rooftops. It was funny, she thought, even though she had no intention of facing off with the Ghost Rider she was heading the same way his car had disappeared. 

____

The bar was crawling with people. All Neo Nazis, all hanging out in the same shitty place.

The building was run down, the parking lot a ruined and cracked mess. If it hadn't been for the loud music and chatter coming from inside the bar, she would have thought the place had been shut down years ago. Eve watched the building for twenty minutes from the rooftop opposite of it. No one was looking up at her position crouched on the edge. They were all preoccupied with their booze more than they were that someone could’ve been coming to crash the party.

She bet they felt invincible in there, inside their echo chamber where they could spout any shitty opinion they wanted and everyone else would agree. They had no fear of getting the shit kicked out of them, or belittled in front of a crowd. No one in that building was brave. They were all scared, shitty people who blamed others for their own incompetence. That made them easy targets.

But Eve only needed one of them. She was sure that the men in the van had done all sorts of bragging about their crimes. None of the teenagers taken had been white, and that was absolutely on purpose. So, if multiple people got caught in the crossfire, she wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. 

Waiting until the last person walked into the building, Eve flipped off the edge of the rooftop, landing on the balls of her feet. Her knees buzzed for a moment before she popped up, bouncing on her heels as she walked into the bar. Before getting there, she downed two energy drinks, and the caffeine was pumping through her veins. 

Eve had been running around the city all day, and it’d be enough to make anyone exhausted. The extra energy she had now was making the Witchblade buzz on her wrist, a smile growing on her face as she walked in with her head held high.

People stopped to stare at her as she walked through the overcrowded bar. Eve stuck out like a sore thumb, with her bright blue hair and gray scale tattoos on her arms. No one said anything to her, but she could feel several pairs of eyes on the back of her head as she made her way through the bar. The bartop was just as shitty as the rest of the place. The wood was splintered and there were several stains and dents on the old counter. 

Similarly, the man standing behind the bar was just as busted as everything else.

He was bald with a thick mustache a top of his upper lip and a nasty cut across thin lips. His gray tank top was stained and wrinkled, a beer belly jutting out from the top of his worn jeans. The flannel he wore was a bit too tight, the fabric straining every time he moved his arms. 

The bartender was ignoring her, so she elbowed her way to the front and leaned against the rough wooden bar. 

“Excuse me.” Her voice carried over the music and she waved to him, but he still chose to ignore her. He was looking at everything but her, cleaning the same glass he’d been cleaning for almost five minutes now. It took Eve waving a twenty dollar bill at him to get his attention. 

He snatched it from her, slamming the glass down onto the bar. “What can I help you with?” Eve hadn’t noticed the amount of teeth he was missing until now.

“So sorry to drag you from rubbing your glass, but I’m looking for someone.” A pause followed, and she gauged how tense the bartender seemed. His jaw clenched and his yellowed fingernails dug into the bar. “Two someones actually. Both bald, not that tall, not that cute either with several shitty tattoos on them.” 

Another pause. This time she noticed that several patrons were now looking her way. Glaring. It sounded like someone had turned the volume down on the jukebox. Eve heard the sound of two pool balls colliding in the silence. 

She continued on. “I know. Doesn’t really narrow it down since you all look so much alike.” The music was now near silent. “How about this: they drive a white van, beat up and shitty. Like to snatch teenagers off the street like a couple of pedophiles?” 

It was now quiet enough to hear a pin drop. 

Drumming her fingers, she stared at the red faced bartender, waiting for someone to speak up.

Nothing. 

So she continued. “Really? I’m sure a couple of pieces of shit like that would hang out in a piece of shit place like this--” 

Something hard and sharp pressed against the small of her back. Slowly, she raised her arms, not breaking eye contact with the pissed off man whose vein was about to burst out of his head. 

“Well, I know that’s a knife ‘cos that is definitely too big to be your cock.” Her smile stayed smugly on her face as was spun around, and said hunting knife was pointed at her chest. She came face to face with another bald man, this one skinnier and with all of his teeth. The man jabbed the knife at her throat, but she kept her smug expression despite the fact that she was vastly outnumbered.

She briefly took in her surroundings, spotting several pocket knives in the hands of the people around her. All glares and snarls pointed in her direction, and even the men who had been playing pool had now stopped to look over the crowd. 

Raising her arms, she feigned surrender but the man still shoved the knife in her face. “I don’t know what you’re doing here--”

“I literally just said it.” 

The knife sliced across her cheek, and the crowd began to move towards her. Blood dripped down her skin for only a brief moment before stitching itself back together in a matter of seconds.

For a moment, she could see fear flash in the. She saw the fear turn into anger, and then into hatred. 

Someone shouted, “She’s one of those freaks!” The whole bar began to stir, feet shuffling and women gasping, hiding behind their given partners. Eve’s eyes scanned the room, voices from the Witchblade echoing in her mind. She flexed her fingers as the man with the knife began to smile. 

“You just made a huge mistake, freak,” he said. 

Eve replied with a smile, “Nah.” The Witchblade sparked, lightning shooting through her nerves as she shuffled on her feet. “I’m right where I want to be.” 

The man had no chance to react when she shot forward, left hand shoving the knife away as she thrust the palm of her right hand into his nose, breaking it. Blood sprayed out from his nostrils as he stumbled backwards and then launched into the crowd once her foot planted a hard kick to his chest. 

The rest of the crowd screamed, moving away from her as her staff formed in her hand, and she spun around swinging the staff to clear the area around her. She felt the vibrations of the metal with each of the Nazis she hit. 

Planting her foot on the ground, she stopped herself from spinning and hit the ground with her staff. Several men were on the floor now, the rest standing back as they watched her in the center of the mob. Along with the staff, the Witchblade had transformed into its gauntlet shape, covering the entirety of her right forearm.

It wasn’t going to take her full armor to beat these scumbags, so she wasn’t going to waste it. 

“So,” The staff plunged into the old wooden floor, standing at an angle where Eve found her balance to lean on it. The floor groaned underneath it’s pressure. Eyes glanced around the ground, and she tilted her head, gauntlet claws grabbing her chin. “I’ll ask again; where are the Nazis with the white van?” 

The silence continued to linger.. Eyes darted from person to person, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads, and knives beginning to shake. 

These people were cowards, and they were no longer safe. 

Someone to her left screamed, “Fuck you, bitch!” and charged at her with a pool stick. The man swung it down, snapping it against her armored forearm. She shot out a leg, tripping him before shoving him to the ground. His nose crunched under her boot, and she ground it down further as he struggled underneath her. 

“Fine! Y’all wanna do this the hard way? We’ll do it the hard way.” The wood broke as she ripped the staff from the floor, bracing herself as the rest of the crowd rushed her. 

Fighting Nazis was nothing compared to fighting demons. Demons were smart, and knew how to throw an actual punch. On the other hand, these people were idiots and relied on their hateful rhetoric to keep them safe. Eve would’ve felt guilty for it, except she really had no sympathy for any Nazis. 

Each impact of the staff fractured bones.The Witchblade gave it’s user superhuman strength so even a slightly lighter hit was enough to injure whoever was on the other end. Eve was maybe holding back a bit. Only because she needed to make sure that at least one of them would be conscious enough to answer her questions. 

A man with a Led Zeppelin shirt came charging at her with a broken beer bottle, lunging to try and shove it into her stomach. Eve side-stepped it, watching him stumble long enough that she was able to maneuver her staff behind his head, yanking his nose down to meet her knee. The bones crunched on impact, and she shoved him back into the pool table. 

The bar was a lot emptier now, a majority of the patrons running out when they realized that they didn't stand much of a chance. 

Glancing around, sh searched for someone who would tell her what she needed to know. Her eyes settled on a semi-conscious man trying to crawl away from the scene. The metal in her hands began to bend, the shape of the staff changing as she stalked towards the man. 

But she came to a stop when a sharp pang of electricity shot down her spine, causing the hair on her body to stand. She whipped her head around just in time to miss getting hit by a massive man. 

Or, what looked like a man at first. 

Planting her feet on the ground, she came face-to-face with the thing that attacked her. It was massive, standing at least seven feet tall. Its once humanoid figure had mutated, it’s limbs stretching out inches beyond what's natural, black spikes slicing through thick gray skin. Its facial features contorted into something more animalistic with pupiless black eyes. 

The man behind her screamed and scrambled up to run. Eve flicked her wrist at him, the staff now a whip, winding around his ankle. He tripped, hitting the pool table face first and losing a tooth in the process. The impact also knocked himself out cold.

"Don't tell me you guys are hanging out with these scum now?" Eve asked, cracking the whip behind her. The demon only snarled at her, letting out an inhuman scream before picking up a table and throwing it at her. 

Eve dodged it, but was caught blindsided by another demon. It's arm connected with her side, launching her through the blacked out window. Broken glass sliced through her skin, tiny cuts opening up on her skin.

Rolling to her stomach, she pushed herself to her feet and jumped back when the twin demons stepped through the same window. 

The glass cracked under their feet, but they were unaffected by it. 

Blowing out a breath, she brushed her hair back and sprung into action the second they pounced at her. The Witchblade burned against her wrist, the rest of the armor spreading to cover her entire body as she lept and dodged her attackers. 

Each Witchblade host has a unique armor to fit their personality and their needs. Eve's armor was similar to a black catsuit, conforming to the shape of her body with metal plates protecting her legs, arms and chest. Blue light formed intricate patterns on the armor, shifting and giving it the illusion that the armor was alive. 

It felt like a second skin to Eve. It almost made her feel invincible. 

One of the demons swung its black claws at her and she flipped back, the full armor increasing her agility. The whip snapped, catching the demon across the face. Smoke rose from the wound, a sickening sizzling filling the air. 

She whipped at it again, catching it across the chest. Black blood sprayed from the wound onto the pavement like tar. 

The howl from it must have traveled through the entire neighborhood. Hopefully someone would just think it was a rabid dog in the neighborhood. 

Eve raised the whip again, but she came to a stop when the second demon slammed into her again. The force sent her flying across the parking lot, her back connecting hard with the hood of a car, the back of her head smashing into the windshield. 

"If I'm thrown into one more car…." Huffing out a breath, she stood on top of the dented hood, narrowing her eyes at the two demons. 

Fighting Nazi's was one thing, but fighting demons was a whole other thing. 

Standing on the balls of her feet, she leapt into the air, flipping and cracking the whip against their backs. The metal sliced through their shoulder blades. Eve hit the ground running before jumping up again to piggyback onto a demon. Metal claws formed on her armor, just as razor sharp as the ones her opponents had. 

Locking her legs around the demons neck, she plunged her claws into both of its eyes and ripped them out.

Eve felt blood spray on her. She jumped down using the now blind demon’s face as a springboard before the other demon could grab her. 

The blind one stumbled into the other, still howling in pain as it clutched the place where it’s eyes should have been. 

It’s partner merely pushed past it, furiously swiping at her. Eve cracked her whip at its feet, but it kept coming at her. 

She wrapped the whip around her waist as she ducked underneath, swiping her own claws at its torso. She managed to slice through its stomach three times before it managed to swat her away. Eve hit the pavement about three yards away, rolling to a stop and propping herself up on her knee. 

The demon clutched his stomach, but still looked ready to come at her again. 

It stopped after one step, its head snapping to the side, quickly looking at something in the distance. Eve saw its jaw clench, then it looked at her with teeth bared. 

She watched it as it turned into a cloud of black smoke disappearing down into the sewers, followed by its now blind companion. 

Confusion filled her, but there was no time to think about it. Perhaps they realized they couldn't beat her and ran off with their tails tucked between their legs. 

Unlikely, but it did her ego good. 

Behind her she heard scuffling. Glancing around, she saw a man trying to get away from the scene. 

She unwrapped her whip, catching his ankle and yanking him backwards. His chin was the first thing to hit the pavement. By the time she got to him, the skin was bloody and raw from the pavement.

"So." She was out of breath, sweat forming on her brow. "Do you wanna tell me what I want to know?" 

He sputtered, eyes wide with terror, and it looked like he might actually start talking. His mouth opened but any words that was about to come out were cut off by the sound of a loud car pulling up behind her. 

The headlights blinded her, and she had to throw her hand over her eyes. 

Eve couldn't tell who it was, but she could see the car was black with silver trimming. It revved at her, the lights flashing. 

Before she could formulate any thoughts into words, something glinted in her peripheral vision. A gunshot rang out before she could turn her head, then there was nothing but black.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof it's been a while since i've updated. but that's fine it's cool. at least we get some robbie in this chapter! yeet.

The red lights faded down the road, the sound of the engine echoing throughout the empty woods. She watched the car until she could no longer see it, feeling her own blood pool under her body.

She was left alone in complete darkness. Left alone to die on this god forsaken dirt road. 

Her eyelids felt so heavy, begging her to shut them. Eve knew that once they shut, they'd never open again. She was dying. Bleeding out from multiple ugly stab wounds in her abdomen. 

She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready. It wasn't fair. 

There wasn't even anyone to plead to. Her breathing was starting to slow, heartbeat stopping. 

She didn't want to go. She didn't want to die. 

In the darkness, she saw a light coming towards her. A car, she thought. Would they see her lying in the dirt? Or would they drive right past her, not knowing of her fate. 

She wondered when someone would find her body. 

The light got closer and closer, a blur to her fading vision. Slowly she blinked, forcing them open one more time. In front of her stood a figure, vaguely human in shape. It stood a few feet from her, the light coming from where its chest would be. 

A voice that sounded almost like hers echoed in her mind, speaking to her in a hushed tone. 

This is not your time. it said. Your journey is only beginning. 

She was somewhere else. Her body was upright, the sound of leather wrinkling as she moved. No shitty asphalt from the parking lot. Even with her eyes closed she could tell the light around her was artificial. The smell of oil and grease filled her nostrils. 

A terrible, head splitting ache filled her skull along with a sharp ringing in her ears. The rest of her body didn’t feel that great either, but she was alive at least. Eve would be sore for days, but she was alive. 

Clenching her jaw, Eve forced her eyes open. It took a few blinks before her vision cleared, feeling her contacts swim in her eye to find their place. 

Her eyes glanced around the car she had been placed in. It was parked in a garage, which would explain why it smelled like an auto body shop. The car was an older model, but really well kept. Black interior with silver details. She snorted, it didn’t take much thought to figure out whose car this was. He really had a thing for black and silver. Eve shifted in her seat, groaning as every muscle in her body begged her not to do that. 

What had happened? 

There was the bar, the fight that broke out, the two demons and then that car. 

A gunshot. 

Her fingers pressed to her temple, flinching at her own touch. The bullet must’ve gone right through her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her head back on the seat, muttering insults to herself. She had made it out alive facing two demons, but then let a Nazi shoot her in the head. 

Awesome.

Her fingers found the door handle, pulling it to find it blessedly unlocked. Slowly she moved out of the seat, the nausea only increasing. To keep herself from throwing up, she put her head in between her legs. 

Bile sat at the back of her throat, the blood rushing to her head only making everything feel worse. Eve’s been shot in the head before, but it was only a graze compared to this. Never straight through. 

That must’ve been a pretty sight. A quiet manic left her lips as she thought about her brains scattered on the pavement. Yet here she was, brain somehow intact. 

At least, for the most part. 

Wrapping her arms around her thighs, she tried to steady her breathing. As the ringing in her ears began to lessen, she could hear a faint sound somewhere in the garage. Something was hitting something. Flesh on flesh. Chains rattling. Muffled pleas and cries of agony. 

That was concerning. 

Pushing herself up, Eve stood still while she found her balance. Current brain damage probably threw off her equilibrium. 

Stumbling to the wall, she used the surface to find an artificial balance. Her armor had long since retracted, leaving her in just the clothes she had worn all day. Only now they were stained and dirty with human and demon blood. Eve could see the tiny cuts from the broken window had already scabbed over, though she wasn’t sure about any of the other injuries she had received. 

Cautiously she made her way to the halfway open door where the chains still rattled. Being closer she could hear two voices. Both men, and one clearly in pain. Once she got to the door, she dropped to her knees and leaned her head in the opening. 

From her viewpoint, she saw the man who shot her strapped to the wall, his face bloody and bruised. Sobs were pouring out of his mouth, pleas for his life in between. 

Another man walked in front of him, his back to her as he flipped a pair of keys in his hand. Eve almost wanted to kick herself at how obvious it had been in hindsight. The man pacing in the room was the same man from the diner, and the same man who had a flaming skull head. 

The way his eyes had seemed to catch fire should’ve been a dead giveaway. 

The man on the wall was looking around frantically, one eye swollen shut while the other was bloodshot. The rest of his face wasn’t much better. Eve wondered how long she had been out, since the only injury he had was the scraped up chin. There weren’t any windows in this garage so no way to tell if the sun was starting to rise. It had been almost midnight by the time she had shown up to the bar. 

Eve watched silently as Roberto paced back and forth, the key ring being flipped over and over again. Each flip made the man wince, preparing for another strike. Eve wondered if he had the same questions she had, or if he just really enjoyed kicking the shit out of a Nazi. 

Either way, she wasn’t about to get in the way. 

The man in chains kept looking around until he finally made eye contact with her, now pleading with her to help him. As if he, one, didn’t shoot her in the head and two, she cared about what happened to him. Eve didn’t know where she stood morally most days, she wasn’t good or evil, it was just that she wasn’t going to lose sleep over a nazi. 

He was looking at her crouched on the floor, as was Roberto. His expression was slightly unreadable. The only thing that gave away any emotion was the clench in his jaw and the wrinkled skin between his eyebrows. The keychain flipped again. 

“Oh thank goodness you didn’t kill him.” For a brief moment, relief filled with the Nazi’s eyes. Eve grabbed the door handle, pulling herself up and ignoring the vomit that threatened to come up her throat. “‘Cos he still owes me an answer.” 

The relief vanished from his face instantly. 

Again, the keychain flipped. “What do you need him for?” 

Keeping her head high and back straight, she walked forward. “What do you need him for?” Probably wasn’t smart to be a smart ass to anyone in this state she was in, especially to the Ghost Rider himself. The words just flowed out, not stopping to be filtered or for her to even think about it. 

The muscles in his jaw twitched before he replied. “I asked first.” 

Eve caught the look in his eyes, saw the fire behind them and realized that this would do neither of them any good. She didn’t want to fight him, and probably couldn’t right now. Leaning against the wall behind her, she clutched her sides. “I need him because I think he knows where those missing boys are.” 

His eyes narrowed at her, and she looked to the man in question. 

“Or, at least knows who took them and where they might be.” 

The fear increased in his eyes. He pulled on the chains as Roberto walked toward him. The man yelped as Roberto grabbed a handful of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Roberto’s eyes began to glow again, and Eve could smell the faint scent of burning flesh. 

“Is what she’s saying true?” His head nodded towards her, as if there would be any confusion to who he meant. 

The man nodded his head furiously, thinking it might spare him just a little bit longer. It did not spare him another nose injury, the facial features now even more broken as the Ghost Rider sucker punched him. He dropped like a sack of bricks, but remained conscious. He spit out his blood on the floor, and Roberto turned to look at her. 

Eve felt her heart skip a beat with the look, but kept her composure. Standing face to face with him, she almost couldn’t picture his face turning into a flaming skull. Mostly it was in his eyes, big and round and almost boyish. They were hardened for sure, but there was still something behind them that hadn’t hardened all the way. He was also a lot more handsome than she had expected. She saw him in the diner, but she was too preoccupied with why he was setting off her alarms to notice that part of him.

“I’ll ask again, why are you beating the shit out of him?” 

“Other than him being apart of the Aryan Brotherhood?” It was a question, but he phrased it more like a statement. Eve just nodded at him, gesturing for him to keep talking. So, he did. “These gilipollas have been peddling drugs to children. Hanging around high schools and middle schools.” 

Eve noticed a certain twitch in his eyes as he said that, and the way his fingers flexed at his sides. 

“Fair enough,” She pushed herself off the wall, the nausea working its way out of her system. Definitely never getting shot in the head again if she could help it. She crouched down in front of the beaten and broken man, tilting her head as she spoke. “So, just tell me where they are and this will be over way quicker than if you don’t.” 

A braver man may have spit in her face, or just flat out refused to say anything. The Ghost Rider had already chiseled away any resistance he may have put forth. Fine by her. 

Once he opened his mouth, he told them everything. Where they were selling and kept the drugs to Roberto. He confessed that their gang had been hired to pick up teenagers off the street and deliver them to an unknown guy, and that they didn’t know what happened to them after that. He also confessed to not really caring about what happened to those kids either. 

Not the smartest thing to admit, since Roberto smashed his head into the concrete wall behind him. The man went limp after that. 

“Well.” She looked at him, a smile on her lips. “We both got what we needed.” 

He didn’t return the smile, just stared at her. His expression wasn’t so angry anymore, but she couldn’t read what he was thinking either. Maybe he was trying to ask her how she survived being shot point blank in the head. 

A heavy silence passed between them before she broke it. 

“Guess it’s nice to finally meet you officially, Roberto. We keep running into each other.” This would be their third time meeting, and only their first time talking to each other. Instead of just staring, neither of them sure what to make of the other. “Or do you prefer Ghost Rider? Mister Rider?” 

He made a noise in his throat. Not quite a laugh, but not quite a scoff either. “Robbie is fine.” He paused again, keyring flipping in the silence. “So how do you play into all of this? I can tell you’re not from around here.” 

“Would you believe I’m just a good Samaritan on vacation?” 

“In this neighborhood?” 

He had a point. Eve shrugged, feeling the Witchblade react to him against her wrist. It didn’t feel like a warning, it was trying to tell her something. The message was just lost in translation. It’d get to her eventually, there just wasn’t time to decipher cryptic messages from her own personal artifact. 

“It’s a long story, like I’m sure the story behind your head turning into an album cover skull is.” Eve gestured to his head, putting her hands down when he didn’t seem that amused by her jokes. Not that surprising, no one appreciated her jokes. The tension in the room was just too stifling. 

“Anyways, we can talk about it later. It seems like I have a warehouse to be at.” 

While the skinhead didn’t know all the specific details about who the teenage boys were being sold to, he knew where they were being sold. Considering how recent the last teenager was taken, Eve could use the Witchblade to view that memory. Hopefully anyways, if she hadn’t pushed herself too much already. 

He blocked her path, looking down at her. Eve was considered tall, she stood at five foot eight, but Robbie just happened to be four inches taller than her. It wasn’t often anyone could physically look down at her. “We have a warehouse to go to.” 

She gaped up at him, watched him walk by her to his car while flipping his keychain again. “Since when did this become a we?” 

“Since I had to pick you up off the pavement when your brains were on the pavement.” Robbie stopped in the doorway, and Eve could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile appear on his lips. “The drugs can wait, if those kids are alive, we have to get to them now before anything happens to them.” 

If there’s anything to happen to them anymore, she thought. Would Elliot keep them alive if they weren’t his ideal host? It seemed unlikely, but she didn’t want to think about it like that. According to her reliable sources, Elliot was calculating and there was nothing he did unplanned. The missing boys had already drawn some attention to what was happening, and there would be even more if a body was discovered. She didn’t think Elliot would risk that, but did she really know? This would be the first time she’d dealt with him head on. She’d heard plenty of stories and rumors though. 

The keychain flip caught her attention, the thoughts finding their place in the back of her mind now. 

“You comin’, chica?” He asked, turning on his heels. In the next room she heard the doors of the garage slide open. The driver side door opened soon after, closing right before the engine revved to life.

It’s not like she had much of a choice. Even though the nausea and headache had faded away, she was in no condition to face down anyone by herself. Eve wasn’t even sure if she would’ve made it by herself anyways. So far nothing about this week had gone according to plan.

At least they were on the same page here. Find the teenagers and bring them home safely if they could. Maybe kick some ass in between. Hopefully this would bring her a step closer to Elliot, and closer to the Blood Sword. 

After another moment of thought, Eve made her way to where the car waited for her. She was barely in the passenger seat before he peeled out of the garage. 

The buildings passed by in a blur, the air blowing through the open window as Robbie sped down the street. So far the drive was silent, neither of them speaking to the other and their eyes on something else. The Witchblade still burned against her wrist, a message desperately trying to get to her. Eve closed her eyes to try and filter everything out, focus everything on what it was trying to tell her. 

Nothing. The driver beside her broke the silence. 

“So,” Robbie began, keeping his eyes on the road and turning swiftly at a stoplight. “You must got the devil in you if you survived a bullet to the head.” 

Eve raised her eyebrows. “I haven’t had a devil in me in a long time.” She turned her head to look at him, a grin on her lips, hoping for some sort of laugh from him. Nothing. 

Instead he just looked annoyed and waited for an actual answer. 

“I am going to get you to unclench and laugh,” she muttered under her breath before speaking louder. “It’s not a devil. At least, I don’t think it is.” Her hand came to rub against the hot metal on her wrist, looking down at the blue crystal adorned in it. Eve really had no idea what it was, where it came from or why it existed. Moreso, why it chose her of all people. She didn’t think she was doing that great a job of ‘protecting the balance’. “It’s called the Witchblade--and no I didn’t name it that.” 

He glanced over when she tapped the metal with a fingernail, then snapped them back to the road. “So that’s where your suit came from.” Eve raised an eyebrow at him and he continued. “After I got you in the car, it...went back into it. I was just thankful you had clothes on underneath.” 

Eve snorted. “Yeah that would’ve been embarrassing.” 

That time she thought she saw a smile. Progress. Though she didn’t know why she felt the need to get on his good side, or make an impression. She was sure after this she’d never cross paths with him. Not like he or she would want to anyways. 

“Short version is that it’s an ancient artifact that gives me cool powers, one being the armor and...stuff.” Eve felt her body lean when he turned down another road. They had been driving for almost ten minutes, and she had no idea how long it would take to get there. Or if Robbie had any idea where he was going exactly. He acted like he did, so she was hoping it wasn’t just a show. 

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He was looking at her again and she had to look away, watching the city pass by. He had a point, and she owed him an explanation for everything that was happening. 

“Another artifact like the Witchblade was stolen about a week ago, called the Blood Sword. Again, I didn’t name any of these.” Eve hadn’t realized how ridiculous these names were until she started saying them out loud. She continued. “It was tracked here and the same person who stole it is the same person who hired the Nazis to kidnap all those boys. I say person, but he’s actually a demon.” 

Eve paused for his reaction, but he didn’t say anything. She kept going. 

“I think he’s looking for a host. The Blood Sword was made by binding the soul of a demon to it, so it’s really powerful. It gives it’s host a lot of power, but it corrupts them to the point where they just become bloodthirsty assholes. According to the stories, anyways.”

There was another small pause. Eve could see his grip tightening on his steering wheel, knuckles going white. 

“So he’s looking for someone to use it?” His voice was level, but there was a slight edge in there. 

Eve nodded. “I think so, at least. He’s grabbing teenagers because they’d be easy to manipulate, but I don’t think he’s found a host yet.” 

Robbie nodded. The car sped faster down the fairly vacant streets, passing by a car every once in a while. Eve could tell they were closing in on a more industrial part of the city, seeing warehouses in the distance behind the buildings they were passing. 

A moment of silence passed between them, Eve tapping her thumb against her thigh. “Well, I gave you my spiel, so I think you have to give yours next. It’s only fair.” She gestured to him, then to her own head, her fingers mimicking flames. Which meant just wiggling her fingers. 

He blew out a breath at her, shaking his head with eyes forward. “Not much to tell. I made a deal with the devil, and I got stuck like this.” 

Eve noted the way he said stuck. Implying he didn’t want this, but it’s what he got in exchange for whatever he made the deal for. Again, she fiddled with the Witchblade, the corner of her lips pulling down into a frown. There wasn’t much you could say to something like that. “That’s rough.” 

For the first time since they had met, he laughed. Nothing gut busting or anything, but a small chuckle that really softened his features. “That’s all you got to say?” 

“I think so, yeah. Which is rare for me.” 

He laughed again, turning down a road in the direction of the warehouses she saw. “I guess I didn’t think you’d believe me.” 

It was Eve’s turn to laugh, an ugly snort coming out of her mouth. “Seriously?” She snorted again. “Bro, I have an ancient artifact strapped to my wrist, it’s really not the most batshit thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” A beat passed. “And I was fighting a demon the first time we met. Which, thanks for turning him into a pile of ash, I could have used him to find Elliot faster.” 

“Right, because you looked like you were winning that fight.” 

She snapped her head to him, mouth open and hand to her chest in feign offense. “Wow. I super had him, you just came in at the wrong time.” 

“You mean the time it threw you into a car?” 

“Yeah.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes for a brief moment before her lips cracked into a smile. Eve could just make out the smallest smile on his lips, too. At least they were somewhat past the awkward stage of knowing each other. Like it mattered, since this would probably be the first and last time they’d work together. 

Eve could tell he was the loner type, and she never really worked with anyone either. She didn’t do friends or relationships. Matthias and Jacqui were different, since they came with the Witchblade. Both of them were centuries old with the sole purpose of watching over the Witchblade and it’s host. 

She had to remind herself constantly that they weren’t her found family or even her friends. She was pretty sure she was nothing but an obligation to them. A pain in the ass, really. 

Robbie broke the silence, nodding to the building they were driving up to. “That’s it.” Once he got close enough, he flipped off his lights and pulled up slowly to the building. He parked in the shadows with a clear vantage point to the entrance of the warehouse. There were lights on, but no one they could see. 

The car shook as it sat in idle, both of them silent as if someone could be listening. Or they’d be loud enough for someone to hear them. With how loud this car was someone would’ve already came out if there had been people inside to hear them. Eve pursed her lips in a tight line, leaning forward to see if she could make out anything. 

Her wrist was buzzing, the familiar electric feel up and down her spine. 

“There’s something here.” She whispered, looking to Robbie. He was looking forward, eyebrows pinched as the flames engulfed his eyes. 

He nodded at her, turning off the car. Robbie didn’t get the chance to take the keys out of the ignition before someone else pulled up from the opposite direction. Luckily it didn’t seem they noticed them as they parked in front of the warehouse. 

Once they turned off their headlights, Eve recognized the white van from the memories. The dented bumper and the same crack in the windshield. The two men were the same from the memories as well. They stepped out of the van, slamming the doors and speaking to each other. The taller one opened up the back, pulling somebody out. Eve couldn’t see their face, but she saw their bound hands behind their back and the black bag over their head. 

Another teenager. 

Eve swore under her breath, grabbing Robbie’s arm as he tried to exit the car. “Wait.” She hissed, watching as the men shoved the teenaged boy into the warehouse. 

“For what?” His eyes were brighter now and the softness that had been there was now gone. Eve swallowed, squeezing his arm tighter. 

“The other boys might be in there, along with Elliot.” Her teeth gnawed at her inner lip, trying to think of a plan of action. She’s never been good at plans, she’s always been an act first, deal with the consequences later. Reckless most would say, but she usually got the job done. 

Her eyes darted back to the warehouse, keeping her grip on Robbie’s arm. They snapped back to Robbie, tilting her head towards the entrance. 

“You want the back or the front?”


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeet

While barging in guns blazing so to speak was her usual style, this particular moment needed a tiny bit more caution. Eve didn’t care about what happened to the Nazi’s that Elliot hired, she’d prefer it if they got caught in the crossfire, but she was more concerned with the safety of the teenage boys. Eve wasn’t a hundred percent sure they were here, or alive for that matter, but there was one still breathing. If she could save him, it’d be a start. 

She’s supposed to prioritize Elliot and the Blood Sword over everything else, that was her mission. She was supposed to do that, but she wasn’t going to. 

Eve had no illusion of being a hero. She wasn’t, and never would be. The Witchblade was a weapon and so was she. She’d never be Captain America or any other Avenger. Sometimes she felt like she had more in common with the Big Bad Punisher than any celebrity superhero. 

She just tried to do what she thought was right, and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. The sentiment was heroic, she supposed, but it was impossible to think of herself as one. It was her actions that barred her from the moniker ‘hero’. Honestly, she had no idea what she was in those terms. 

It didn’t matter in the end, this was her life. Her own burden to bear.

Robbie was waiting in his Charger after she had convinced him to wait. After he explained to her that his car was not a Mercedes. Sue her, she didn’t know cars. She barely knew anything really. 

She was on the top of the warehouse, looking down into the wide open room from a window. Once Elliot showed up and she saw the Blood Sword, she’d signal for Robbie with her phone. Ideally she wanted to take care of both of the problems tonight, but she’d settle for at least one.

Ten minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Elliot anywhere. The men beneath her were starting to get agitated, pacing back and forth while yelling at the other. With the window shut she couldn’t hear anything they were saying. Eve decided to test her luck, finding the hatch and lifting it slowly. It creaked but the sound wasn’t loud enough to be heard by Dipshit One and Dipshit Two. Eve saw the boy move his head up despite the black bag over his head. 

Even from her height she could tell he was trembling. His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, the tell tale signs of panic. He would have nightmares about this for years to come, and Eve didn’t want to think what might have happened between the time he was snatched and they brought him here. 

“This is bullshit.” Dipshit One said, kicking the ground beneath him. 

“He’s only five minutes late. With the money he’s paying us I’d wait a whole other hour.” Dipshit Two replied with the most sickening grin on his face. Eve honestly didn’t think it would take much for these two to do anything horrible. They’d probably do most of it for free. 

Another two minutes passed before Eve heard a door open from the other side of the warehouse, a loud banging echoing through the room. The boy jumped and started to look around frantic. His fear was palpable and Eve was going to be sure that each asshole in this room felt the same way he did. Both of the men stopped in their tracks, standing almost at attention when Elliot walked in. 

Before this point, Eve had only seen him in photos and even then she knew that this particular demon demanded respect. Everyone in the room seemed to suddenly go ramrod straight, including Eve as he walked slowly into the warehouse. 

He was a stark contrast to the men he hired. They were bald headed and dressed like they shopped exclusively from somebody’s garbage can. Elliot had a full head of black hair, a perfectly tailored suit with shiny polished shoes. Vanity was a big thing for high ranking demons. Even the men who accompanied Elliot were dressed to the nines, hair perfectly kept and faces equally as beautiful. 

The longer Eve looked the more she could see their true forms seeping through. The ugly and twisted faces melting through their almost too perfect skin. She could see the black oil dripping from their pores and eyes, the blood stained hands and the jagged yellow teeth. 

One blink and the illusion was gone.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen." Even his voice was handsome. "There were some complications I had to deal with.” 

Eve’s brow furrowed. Complications? That was pretty vague, and she hoped it didn’t mean her. Elliot must have some idea that she was here now, or at least that someone had come after him. He was good, but not good enough to be completely undetected. 

He must have figured someone would follow him. 

Dipshit One opened his mouth to make a comment, but Dipshit Two cut him off. “Not a problem, we understand you’re a busy man.” 

Elliot smiled at that, clasping his hands behind his back. “Good.” His cold eyes landed on the boy, tilting his head. One of the men behind him stepped forward, a long case in his hand. He placed it on the ground, opening the case after putting in a combination. 

In his hands was the Blood Sword. The sheath was crimson, the handle an ebony black with a red ruby like jewel encrusted in the metal. To the mundane eyes, it just looked like some katana. Nothing special. There were no intricate designs or any special design to it. 

Appearance wise, it was basic. The only thing to signify it was anything else was the power surge she felt once it was removed from its case. Every hair on her body was standing upright just by looking at it. Her own artifact was reacting to its power. 

The other man behind Elliot stepped up and yanked the hood from the boy’s face. The minute the hood came off Eve saw how terrified he was. His eyes were beginning to water, bottom lip trembling. His voice was quiet, hushed. Eve didn’t have to hear him to know he was pleading for his life. 

She wanted to jump down now. To signal Robbie now but she had to wait. Had to wait and see what Elliot was really doing. 

“Don’t be scared, I’ve come to offer you a very special opportunity.” His voice took on a sing-song tone as he walked to the boy, putting a hand on his trembling shoulder and squeezing. “Tell me, have you wanted power?” 

The way he smiled at the boy felt like the way a predator might look at an unsuspecting prey. He smiled but his eyes remained cold. Blank, almost. It made the boy pause, and the Dipshits shift uncomfortably on their feet. 

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but all he could do was stammer and move his head. It was clear that he had no idea how to answer that. He had no idea what was even happening either. 

Elliot smiled more, but it still didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re confused, I get it. It’ll all be explained.” After a small nod, Elliot turned to the man holding the sword and gestured for him to give it to the boy. Elliot stepped back to allow some room, watching as the sword passed from his employee to the boy. 

The teenager took it hesitantly, confusion painted across his face as he held it. 

A long moment of silence passed between everyone, waiting for something to happen. Eve didn’t know what was supposed to happen, if anything was supposed to. She felt her jaw tightened as the seconds dragged on. Now felt like a good time to spring into action and her thumb hovered over the dial button. 

The sound of Elliot’s voice stopped her. 

“You know, I thought video games were making teenage boys more violent. So far I’m not seeing it.” He was angry now. The faux smile gone and the icy look in his eyes was replaced by heated fury. The sword was snatched away from the boy and the hood was yanked back over his head. “I’m really disappointed in today’s youth.” 

Within seconds the sword was placed back into its case, locked up and given to Elliot. Both of the suited men grabbed the boy and started to drag him off. 

“Just take him to the rest, he can still be useful.” Elliot rubbed at the bridge of his nose, sighing before he turned to the two kidnappers. “I’m going to need you two to bring me more. Two at a time, maybe three if you can.” 

His voice faded from Eve’s ears, the last thing she was able to hear was one of the Dipshits negotiating prices. 

Matthias would strangle her for leaving Elliot and the Blood Sword, but she was more focused on where they were taking the boy. He said ‘take him to the others’ which meant that the other kidnapped teenagers had to be alive, and were being kept here. 

She moved quickly and quietly across the rooftop, watching as the two men walked to a different, smaller warehouse with him. Once they were inside Eve hit the green dial button on her phone, let it ring three times before ending the call. 

Eve wasn’t going to wait for Robbie to spring into action, she had to find the other teenagers. She jumped down, rolling as she landed and ran to the warehouse they had entered. 

They opened the door right when she got there, making her slide to a stop. She didn’t even have time to swear before they opened fire at her. 

As quick as she could, she ran to the right, ignoring the sudden pain in her shoulder and thigh as she rolled behind a seperate building. Bullets hitting the side of the building echoed throughout the area, most likely alerting Elliot and the two Nazi’s inside the warehouse still. Hopefully she hadn’t waited too long to signal Robbie. 

Flexing her fingers, the Witchblade strained to form even the smallest piece of armor on her. Eve settled for having her arm covered as she waited for the silence between reloading. Once the bullets stopped flying, she sprang out. The Witchblade formed the metal whip in her hand as she swung it forward, the metal slicing through the fingers of one of the men. The gun fell from his hand, blood spurting out of the wound as he clutched it. 

Once she got close enough, the whip shifted into it’s staff form. Swinging it, she knocked him in the temple and forced him onto the ground. The staff swung down again to make sure he wouldn’t get up. 

Eve twisted around looking for the other man, flinching as she was blinded by a pair of headlights heading right for her. Swearing, she jumped out of the way, the vehicle barely missing her as it sped past. She heard the sound of a gun going off, but didn’t feel anything hit her. 

Only seconds after almost being plowed over by Elliot’s car, the black and silver Charger sped past her. It’s wheels and hood engulfed in flames as it chased down the white SUV. 

Best case scenario would be Robbie chasing them down and catching them, burning them all and then grabbing the Blood Sword, having the problem being solved quickly. Worst case scenario that they get away and leave the state. 

Eve was hoping Robbie’s driving skills weren’t just hype. 

The one bright side of this being that she had managed to find and save all of the teenage boys who had been taken by the men. 

Once she got herself off the ground, Eve limped her way into the second warehouse. She found all of them locked away in a room with three dirty mattresses and nothing else. They all flinched away from her, and it took a lot of reassuring to get them to leave the room with her. They were traumatized, dirty and hungry, but they were alive. 

She waited with them until the police and their parents arrived. Eve had initially only called the police, but each of them boys wanted to call their parents to. To let them know they were alive, and Eve didn’t think they wanted to be alone with the police anyway. 

One of the parents showed up first, throwing their arms around their lost son as Eve watched from atop of roof. Eve couldn’t afford to talk to the police, simply telling the boys to say they managed to escape and find a phone to use. 

The man Eve had knocked out was gone, only a trail of blood left behind that stopped halfway to the warehouse. The other man must have picked up him after she was almost ran over. 

No use trying to find them, she doubted he’d tell her anything anyways. Her hope remained solely on Robbie now. 

Not sure where to go, and waiting until the boys were safely taken away from the warehouse, she made her way back to her temporary base of operations. Even if she could have followed Robbie, she was in no condition to help. Only the bullet in her shoulder had gone all the way through, but the second one was still stuck in her thigh. She limped all the way back to the house, her phone telling her was close to five in the morning by the time she walked through the door. 

It was a miracle she was even conscious. Even more of one when she spent thirty minutes prying the bullet out of her wound with a pair of cheap tweezers. Eve would have to make sure to scrub every surface of the house before she left. It would be super rude of her to leave blood stains everywhere. 

Once the bullet was tossed on the bathroom floor, she wrapped it with a makeshift bandage made of one of her dirty shirts and a towel. 

The clock beside the bed read ten minutes after six, and it was the last thing she saw before she finally lost consciousness.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back bitches

Her dreams were always memories. Usually they were her own, distorted by time and her own mind. They were never pleasant ones, always reliving past trauma in her sleep, blocking it [out] while she was awake. Flashes of blood and a moonless night. A backwoods dirt road and blinding pain. 

When it wasn’t her own memories, it was the memories burned into the hosts of the Witchblade before her . Eve saw their lives through her own eyes. A passenger in the past, but feeling everything they felt in those moments. 

Some hosts she knew more about than others. Frequently her mind would play her memories of Nanaban, as she travelled through the old west. With the Witchblade, she was a force of nature. Reborn as a weapon after she and most of her tribe were slaughtered by English settlers. Her mother was a daughter of the Navajo tribe while her father was a Mexican ranch hand who taught his daughter how to shoot. 

Her father’s gun became her weapon of choice after her rebirth.

Eve would also see the life of a young woman named Lydia White, a sex worker from Whitechapel in 1888. Lydia had died in the streets, cut open and butchered. The Witchblade stitched the pieces the Ripper had cut from her back, and she eventually had her revenge against the serial killer. 

It was possible that Eve was the only one alive with the knowledge of who Jack the Ripper really was. Or, rather, what he was. Unfortunately, it was a secret she could never tell. 

Tonight, however, the memories of Nanaban and Lydia lay dormant. Eve closed her eyes and saw through Lian Sherman's

Lian Sherman was a young, Jewish woman who was killed in a German concentration camp. She died only two months after her birthday. 

Then, at twenty seven years old, she began her second life as a Witchblade host. 

This memory wasn’t of that moment, however; this memory took place a year later, in the Austrian alps and featured Captain America himself. 

Lian was twenty eight, her hair curling behind her ears. Once she had long, beautiful curly hair that bounced with every step, but it had been taken from her in the camp along with everything else. 

Even with her thick jacket and trousers the frigid wind still bit into her skin. The sky was a hazy grey, threatening to blanket the already frozen mountain with even more snow. From behind, she could hear the men speaking amongst themselves, their voices muffled by the wind. In the next ten minutes, a train would be passing them by. A train full of Nazi’s. Their target was only one Nazi in particular, but that was not Lian’s job. 

Her job was to secure the train and to take down as many Nazi scum as possible. Lian was the best at that, which is why she had been recruited to this team.

She hadn’t wanted a part of their team at first. Lian had taken down several concentration camps by herself already. There was a trail of Nazi corpses left in her wake, and she was going to make sure she killed every last one. The Americans hadn’t been there at the beginning, and she was almost sure they were only here to claim the so called glory of the war. The Captain had convinced her otherwise, though she didn’t exactly trust the rest of the chain of command. 

Her mission was not the doctor, but what the doctor would lead her to. Another Artifact, similar to the one on her wrist, but with powers that could not fall into Nazi hands. The Witchblade told her of the artifact, and the Americans had already caught whiffs of a weapon the Nazi’s were using. For now, their goals seemed to aligned. 

A hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to face Jim Morita, one of the few members that could touch her. When the Howling Commandos had first found her, she had been nothing more than a ravenous tool of revenge. Lian had barely spoken, barely ate and almost had killed them. 

The commandos had no idea what to make of her or the weapon on her wrist. The Captain hadn’t seemed too bothered by it when he recruited her. Lian once asked him why he never questioned anything about her. He simply replied, “I used to weigh less than a hundred pounds. Now I can do things most men can’t. My realm of possibility isn’t exactly a small one.” 

“Train’s coming,” Jim said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Lian heard the train before she saw, the mountain almost completely white on the surface. The tracks winded around the peak dangerously, there was barely any ground beneath the railroad. The rest of the mountain was untouched by human hands, jagged and rough. A giant hazard for all of them once their plan was set in motion. 

Winding through the snow and ice, the train came screaming around the mountain. It was moving faster than a normal train should be, the details only just a blur in her vision. Wherever they were headed, they wanted to be there yesterday. 

The rest of the men were now huddled in front of the zipline they constructed hours earlier. This was how they planned on getting on the train. It was reckless and it was dangerous, but all of their plans usually were. There was no time to be safe and calculated in this kind of war. 

Snow crunched under Lian’s boots as she fell in step with her male counterparts as the train barrelled forward on the tracks. They wouldn’t have much time.

“It’s about a ten second window,” The captain yelled over the wind, ready to hook his trolley onto the wire. “We miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield.” 

Dugan yelled over the wind, “Better get moving, bugs!” 

Lian took that as her sign to go. Before Steve could hook his trolley, Lian was already there, the Witchblade morphing into her own sort of trolley to slide down to the train. She counted the seconds in her head, and flashed a smile to the men on the mountain. 

“Ladies first!” was just barely out of her mouth before she leapt off the side and glided down the zipline to the speeding train. She swore she heard someone call her a ‘crazy broad’ before the men followed after her. 

Getting to the train took mere seconds, and she leapt off the wire as soon as she was close enough. Landing into a roll, she sprang up as the armor of the Witchblade covered her entire arm. 

Immediately as she began to walk, she had to crouch almost to her knees. The wind cut into her skin, into her eyes as water streamed down her cheeks. Any longer out here and her tears would begin to freeze on her skin. Her armor spread farther on her body, acting as an extra shield for the extreme situation. Even that wasn’t enough to keep her steady against the wind. 

She heard the rest of the Howling Commandos land behind her, each shouting their own separate commands. Each member behind her scaled into one of the train cars. Not her, however. She stopped short when figures of black appeared on top of the train with her. 

The only thing worse than a Nazi was a demon, but the only thing worse than a demon was a demon who was working with the Nazi’s. 

The figures took humanoid forms without eyes, only a long mouth filled with razor sharp teeth on what should have been their face. Lian counted three with her, but she knew more would come. 

And that was fine. She would rip through every demon and Nazi on this train with a smile on her face. 

The gauntlet on her began to morph again, her fingers transforming into claws and a blade forming on its side. Lian heard a shout behind her, but she waved them off. This was easy and they didn’t need to waste time helping her. They needed the Doctor. She needed to kill. 

The demons leapt at her one by one, and one by one she cut them down. Her blade sliced through every one of them like butter, their thick, black blood coating the top of the train. But With each one she cut down two more appeared in its place.

Lian had never been a fighter before this. Before the war, before she and her family were shoved into that crowded train, before she was executed in that small, cement room. Before the war, she had been a ballet dancer, and she had discovered that fighting and dancing were almost one in the same. 

She fought like she danced, graceful but efficient. Beautiful yet deadly. She spun and leapt past the demons, using her strength to propel herself around the demons and kick them off the side of the train. Even with all the exertion, she never felt tired or sore. Even as the number of demons on the train felt infinite, she never once thought about stopping or giving up.

The train car shook underneath her feet. The vibrations from inside the car ran up her legs. The Commandos must have found their own fight within.

Lian jumped back, but fell as the train shook violently, the sound of an explosion ringing in her ears. 

A voice followed after. The captain’s voice yelling over the wind. 

“Bucky, hang on!” 

From Lian’s position, she could see that the shaking she felt beneath her feet had been a hole being blown in the side of the car. Two figures were clinging to the side, barely able to hang on with the strength of the wind whipping by. 

She saw Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes clinging to the side. His legs were flailing in the air, desperately searching ford any sort of traction or footing. Steve was climbing towards him, arm outstretched as he desperately tried to reach his friend. 

Lian did not know much about her fellow commandos, but she knew of the relationship between the captain and his second in command. 

“Grab my hand!” Steve yelled, leaning desperately for Bucky. 

For a moment, Lian thought their hands might their hands might grasp the other. That Steve could pull Bucky back into the train. For a brief moment, she didn’t think anyone was going to die. 

As quickly as she had that thought, she heard the snapping of metal and she saw the young man fall into the deep valley on the side of the mountain, his screams echoing off the mountain walls. 

Eve woke up in a pool of her own sweat and blood. It felt like her mouth had been stuffed full with cotton balls, and her entire body ached from head to toe. 

Still, she was alive and had managed to sleep almost six hours. Though it felt like she had only slept for two. 

A groan escaped her as she pushed herself off the mattress, joints popping on every part of her body. Waking up like this wasn’t unusual. She was pretty used to it as her time as a host, but it still sucked. 

Eve swung her legs over the mattress, pleased that at least the gunshot wound in her leg was nothing more than a scab now, along with the one on her shoulder. She threw the now ruined shirt and towel to the floor, deciding that she wasn’t going to deal with that until she had her coffee. Luckily the AirBNB came with a keurig, and she had bought her creamer on the first night she was here. Unluckily, the only food in the house were some granola bars and gummy worms. 

The coffee didn’t help the cotton feel of her mouth, but it did give her the placebo energy she desperately craved. It was also helping her realize how much farther she was from her goal. 

As far as she knew, Elliot had escaped with the Blood Sword. Eve had found her phone on the floor, not plugged up to a charger and completely dead. It was charging now but she didn’t even feel like turning it on. Partly because she was afraid of finding missed calls from Matthias and voicemails scolding her for being an absolute failure. 

He wouldn’t care about saving the lives of those teenagers. He never cared about the good things she did, only the failures. And he really liked pointing those out to her. 

It was like he had to constantly remind her what a terrible Witchblade host she was. 

‘“You’re not a terrible host, Evelyn,” the voice in her head said. ‘“You are doing your best.”

She scoffed and spoke out loud, “My best don’t mean jackshit in this case.” 

As she drank her overly sweetened coffee, she mulled over her dream. She thought about Lian and all the other women who had shared the Witchblade. Often she wondered if they had struggled like she had. If they had made mistakes like her and if they sometimes hated the responsibility the artifact gave them. 

It never seemed like it. They all seemed to do it so effortlessly. They never seemed to struggle like she had, and they always seemed to come out the other side unscathed. 

Of course, she was only ever seeing snapshots of their lives. Brief glimpses of the years they spent with the artifact. They all had that in common, and the Witchblade only picked those who were worthy of its power. 

Eve had somehow found herself among these amazing women, but she still felt inferior to them. She hated feeling this way. 

She was in the process of opening her third granola bar and making her second cup of coffee when there was a knock on the door. The Three raps made her freeze, slight panic creeping into her chest. 

Besides the threat of it being a demon or someone from the bar, the house was a disaster. Her clothes were strewn everywhere, along with a trail of blood leading from the front door to the bathroom. Not to mention she looked like a disaster. From the brief look in the mirror, she looked like she had spent a night locked in a room with a hungry grizzly bear. Small cuts were scattered around her face, not to mention all the grime and sweat she had woken up with. If anyone were to see her now she wasn’t sure what they would do [think.] 

Another three raps came through the door as she stared at it, swallowing nervously as she considered the options. 

She could just ignore it and wait for them to either walk away or bust down the door. Or she could give herself the advantage. An advantage she would surely need in this state. 

In another quick moment, she limped over to the door as quietly as she could. The knocks came with more force, more like banging than anything else. Whoever was on the other side was using so much force the door shook in its frame.

The door didn’t have a peephole like her apartment back in New York did, so she just had to be prepared for anything. And she thought she was by the time she swung the door, but for some reason Robbie standing on the other side had never been an option that crossed her mind. 

She opened her mouth, but he spoke before anything came out. . 

“Mierda, chica. Are you okay?” 

Eve leaned against the door, a strained smile on her lips. “Do I not look okay?” 

The wrinkle between his eyes told her he was not amused by her attempt to be cheeky. Most people were not. He moved to come inside and Eve let him, shutting the door once he was inside the house. 

Eve watched him look around the mess that was the small house, hearing him mumble something under his breath. She ignored it, leaning her back against the door and crossing her arms. 

“So, what happened last night?” Again, Eve was deflecting with questions. 

He turned towards her, a clear look of concern etched on his face. He was wearing a white sweatshirt under his leather jacket and Eve had to wonder how the hell he wasn’t having a heat stroke. 

“Could ask you the same thing, chica.” Again, his eyes looked at her up and down, examining each and every injury. Some from last night, and others still lingering from earlier in the week. “That thing doesn’t heal you?” 

“It’s not instantaneous.” Eve shrugged, brushing hair out of her eyes. “Did you get Elliot?” 

Robbie shook his head, hands fidgeting in front of him. He almost seemed anxious, and he’s not a man Eve would expect to be anxious. “No, he managed to get away. You get the kids?” 

“They’re all safe and sound. Though, I’m sure they’ll have nightmares for years about this.” Which Eve felt guilty over. Maybe if she had found Elliot earlier she could’ve spared them the trauma. Or, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered and she was beating herself up over nothing. She sighed, rubbing her eyes under her glasses and pushed herself from the door. “Want some coffee? I have a variety of flavors to choose from.” 

She walked past Robbie, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. The gesture shocked her so much that she almost gave herself whiplash turning around to look at him. 

“You need to sit down.” His voice was quiet, almost gentle. Eve was sure the expression on her face told him everything. She was wide eyed with her mouth slightly opened, completely surprised at the show of concern.

It wasn’t something she was used to, or even expecting. After last night she didn’t think Robbie would seek her out, if anything she thought she’d have to find him. 

But, he was right. Eve practically had one foot in the grave, if it weren’t for the Witchblade both feet would’ve been in a long time ago. She needed to rest, to heal and get herself well before she continued. It was just too bad that she couldn’t afford to waste any time with that. 

After the Blood Sword was taken back, she’d take a whole week to rest. 

If nothing else terrible happened. That would be the day. 

Eve did let Robbie lead her to the table, and she did sit down, but only because there wasn’t any real reason to keep standing. He sat down in the chair across from her, that same look of concern as she tapped her nail against the ceramic of her cup. 

A moment of silence passed before Robbie spoke while rubbing at his stubble ridden jaw. 

“How did this happen to you?” He gestured to her wrist, a crease forming between his brows. 

A quiet, almost pathetic laugh escaped her. She avoided answering right away by taking a sip of her coffee that was already starting too cool. “That’s a long story.” Another sip. “I’m sure it’s the same for your whole thing.” 

Eve wiggled her fingers around her head to mimic the fire. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I know.” Eve shrugged and lasted less than a second under his gaze. She tore her eyes away as she kept on shrugging. “Bad luck, I guess. Wrong place, wrong time.” 

Her eyes drifted to the artifact on her wrist. Slowly she could feel all of those memories being dragged to the forefront of her mind. The blood, the knife, the branches whipping across her face as she ran---

She squeezed her eyes shut as she drank the rest of her coffee, trying to shut off the memory before it could form completely. Not something she wanted to think about right now. Or ever. for that matter. 

The coffee cup hit the table top with a loud thud. Pain shot through her body as she stretched, each muscle battered, and maybe a few bone fractures to boot. 

"Anyways, that's not super important. What happened last night when you Fast and Furious'd out of there?" 

At least she got a chuckle out of him. He pulled the chair opposite of her out and sat down himself, rolling his shoulders before speaking. "I almost had him on the highway, until he decided to shoot out the tires of a propane truck. Almost took out entire bridge, and everyone on it."

"Yeah, demons don't really care about collateral damage." A beat. "Or people. Anything that isn't themselves." 

Robbie nodded, fidgeting with his hands and leaning his chair back. He balanced on two legs for seconds at a time. "You have no idea where he could be?" 

Eve bit her lip, tucking one leg up into the chair. "I mean, I have a few ideas but nothing concrete." 

At this point the only advantage Eve had was that both she and Elliot were at square one. He was still without a host for the Blood Sword, and she was still without it. Time was ticking, more so for her than her demon nemesis of the week, but it still helped that Elliot didn't have the full advantage. 

"Elliot will most likely still be looking for a host, but I doubt he'll get them from the same area after last night." 

Not to mention Eve had busted up the Aryan's little bar so she doubted they'd want to get involved anymore. 

"Well I took care of those two last night after Elliot got away, so he's down a pair of goons." 

Eve blinked, slightly surprised by that. Not surprised that he had killed them, but he had taken the time to go back and look for them. 

"Needed to blow off some steam?" 

Robbie shrugged, his leather jacket crinkling with the motion. "Something like that." 

Eve wanted to press but she bit her tongue, standing up from her chair. As much as she liked to continue their little conversation, time was not something she had a lot of. She told Matthias that she'd have this handled by tomorrow. She had already slept for half of the day and who knew what Elliot had done in those hours. As far as she knew, demons didn't need to sleep. 

She flinched as she moved, and she felt a pair of hands steady her. One on her hip and the other on her arm. Eve was going to ignore the warmth of those hands, and how her body seemed to heat up in response. 

Standing up straight, she muttered her thanks and walked forward. "I might know a way to find Elliot, but it’s less than favorable." 

Before she had left for Los Angeles, Matthias had told her of a last ditch effort if she couldn't find Elliot. But it was only to use as a last resort. It seemed like now it was time to use that ace in the hole, no matter how much she didn’t want to. 

"I just need to get dressed, and I'll get it all sorted." 

Behind her, Robbie scoffed. "You mean we'll get it sorted." 

She spun on her heels at that, eyes narrowed behind thick lenses. "No, I meant I will get it sorted." 

He scoffed at her again, a crooked grin breaking out across his face. "Sorry, chica, but it's gonna be we until this problem is taken care of." Robbie pulled on the sleeves of his jacket, rolling his shoulders back as she scowled. "Besides, you're gonna need my help." 

"How's that?" 

Robbie still had that smirk on his face, but it was a bit softer now. Didn't mean she didn't want to knock it off his face. "You're pretty busted up, and I'm bulletproof. That might help." 

Her foot tapped the floor, weighing her options. It wasn't a terrible idea, there was strength in numbers and he knew the area way better than she did. 

Also, he was able to turn demons in to dust. That was really helpful.

Okay, and well he wasn't awful company. 

Her response was sigh, wrinkling her nose. "Fine. You can tag along, but you are soooo gonna cramp my style." 

"What style?" 

"No need to be fuckin' rude, Mister Rider." 

_________________

The last ditch effort was a man named Xavier. No last name, but she assumed that was on purpose. The only thing she had was an address written haphazardly on an index card. 

That showed how grave the situation Matthias seemed to think the situation was. And is. Even so, he had strictly told her he was to be used as a last measure. Only in the case of an absolute emergency. She had listened to that advice up until now where her skills were pretty much at their limit. 

Luckily she still had some clothes not covered in blood---Expect for her old and ratted sneakers that should've been thrown out months ago. The new blood just freshened up the old blood stains now, and no one ever seemed to as her about the mysterious stains anyways. 

After getting dressed, washing her face and taking a few painkillers, she and Robbie left in his Charger. The drive was mostly in silence, with quick moments of small talk peppered in the forty five minute drive. Mostly it was about New York, cars and if Eve had ever met any of the Avengers. 

"I've met Daredevil." 

"Who the hell is that?" 

"Eh, no one important." 

Once they got to the address, Eve thought it may have been a mistake. The house was old and run down and painted a horrendous shade of yellow. Her disgust was evident as Robbie parked, and he was equally as confused and grossed out by the paint job. 

"No offense," He said. "But this doesn't look like the house of a wizard." 

"I think he prefers sorcerer, but yeah. I agree." 

Xavier, according to Matthias, was a bastard. He was greedy, manipulative and dangerous. He was also one of the most powerful sorcerers in North America. Or, at least, on the West Coast. 

Matthias was strong, yeah. He was centuries old and had a lot of experience in those years, but Matthias didn't practice the magic that Xavier did. Matthias kept to the light side of magic, his patron Goddess was Freyja of the Nordic pantheon. 

While he was powerful, his magic kept mostly to healing, knowledge and whatever else. Rarely did his magic crossover into the offence. 

Jacqui had once told her he had served as a war doctor in both World Wars. 

According to Matthias, Xavier was the exact opposite of him. His magic was black, practicing the dark arts in his time. Hexes, curses, yada yada. Apparently he had once dwelved into blood magic, but it did not end well. 

Eve double checked the address on the back of the card Matthias had given her, and frowned. They were at the right spot. 

Maybe Xavier gave out false addresses? A man like that was sure to have several enemies. 

"Well, it won't hurt to check." She said, opening the car and stepping out. 

Once her feet hit the ground, she felt her stomach coil. There was nothing she could see that would cause a reaction, it was what she felt. The air around her felt thick and sticky, like walking through extra thick fog.  
No fog, though. The sun was shining and boring down on her. Sweat formed on the back of her neck, feeling a migraine forming at her temples. 

She looked back at Robbie, who seemed to going through the same thing she was. That was worrying. 

Too late to turn around now. Without saying a word, she walked to the broken and worn steps. The wood groaned beneath her and Robbie's feet, as he was following closely behind her. The closer they got to the door, the thicker the air seemed to be. It was almost claustrophobic by the time she knocked on the old wooden door. 

She waited, but she heard nothing on the other side. 

Eve knocked again, this time harder and yelled through the door. "Xavier? Mr. Wizard Man? I need to talk to you." 

Again, nothing. The Witchblade pulsed against her wrist telling that something was behind these doors. 

Sighing through her nose, she pounding her fist on the door. "Matthias Falk sent me!" 

The words had barely left her mouth by the time the door flung open and she started to fall inside. Luckily, Robbie caught her before she face planted. 

"You sure are clumsy for a superhero." 

She scoffed. "I am not a superhero." 

Wrangling from his strong grasp, Eve walked into the door corridor and stopped dead. Eve had seen a lot of weird shit in her years as the Witchblade, but this might've been the weirdest. 

The inside of the house didn't match the outside one bit. It was like they had just stepped into some A List Hollywood actors private home. The walls were glittering gold, while the floor was glittering diamonds. 

In front of them stood a grand staircase, the centerpiece of what had to be the foyer. On each side of them was a door with gaudy lion head door knobs and intricate renaissance paintings. 

The ceiling seemed to stretch on for eternity, more paintings stretching to the very top. Paintings she didn't recognize, paintings that she realized were moving. 

In the paintings, a battle was raging. Soldiers in armor she didn't know fighting with swords and magic, a woman with angelic wings stretched above the centerfold. 

It was beautiful and Eve couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. 

Which is probably why she almost jumped out of her skin when a woman spoke right in front of her. 

"Master Xavier will see you now." 

Eve blinked at the two women in front of her, wondering where the hell they had even come from. She didn't hear footsteps, or any of the doors opening around them. 

Robbie must've felt the same way because she felt his hand hovering just above the small of her back, him now standing beside her. 

The women stood unblinking, like perfect porcelain dolls. The woman on the left had green eyes, long hair and perfect bangs falling just above perfectly arched brows. The other woman had identical bangs and perfect brows, but her hair fell just below her cheekbones. The color of her eyes were so dark Eve couldn’t even see her pupils. 

Eve noted that even their dresses were the same and doll like as well. Black and frilly with identical red and gold brooches on their collars. 

Robbie and Eve shared looks, Robbie's hand now firmly on her back. 

"Uh huh." Eve sputtered, suddenly extremely nervous and now thinking maybe there was another option she could have chosen before this. 

The women turned on their heels and began walking towards the staircase, the pair following behind them but keeping their distance. 

Eve didn't have to look at Robbie to know he was just as concerned as she was. The Witchblade pulsed against her skin, and she swore she could feel extra heat radiating from Robbie. A faint scent of a fire burning in the air around her. 

She shouldn't have brought him here, if anything happened to him she'd blame herself. Robbie was...well, he was something otherworldly and terrifying, but he wasn't a bad man. 

If he was, he wouldn't have came to check on her and he wouldn't seem so worried about her right now. 

She still wasn't fully recovered as noted by the limp in her step and the way she clenched her jaw against the pain. Pain killers had lessened over the years, considering how much she took day by day. 

If they had to fight their way out of here Robbie might be better leaving her behind. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, she forced herself to focus on the main goal of this visit. Finding Elliot. If Xavier could help them, then it'd be worth it. No matter what the cost he might demand. 

Xavier, according to Matthias, always had to have an ace up his sleeve, and the Witchblade could amount to two aces. She had to be careful, she knew that. 

But she did feel better with Robbie with her. Going in alone would have been much more stupid than what they were doing now. 

As they followed the eerie twins, Eve looped two fingers through one of his belt loops. In response, Robbie gave her hip a squeeze, giving silent comfort as her nerves began to over take her.


End file.
